The First To Die
by bluespades
Summary: Chapter 1 is from the POV of the District Nine boy, from morning of day of the Hunger Games to his death. Chapter 2 is of others' reactions to the D9 tributes' deaths.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games.**

**A/N: A little long, I've tried to add in more detail and thoughts of the D9 boy. I'm thinking of adding an epilogue, could be from another character's POV or maybe Clove's about killing him, let me know what you think about that!**

I awake to the shrill sound of my district's escort yelling and pounding on my door for me to get up. I've never been an early riser and as I stretch and rub the sleep out of my tired eyes I give a start. It's the day of the Hunger Games. I flashback to the few days of training. What have I learnt? A couple of handy skills with weapons and basic survival skills. With all that I've been planning and preparing mentally and what I've learnt, I might stand a chance.

I go out of my room and bump into my mentor almost immediately. I'm anxious and flustered. What do I do if I die? _When_ I die. My mentor holds my shoulders to prevent me falling to the ground and looks into my eyes. "Remember, don't go to the Cornucopia. Choose a straight path to the forest and grab whatever's in front of you. I'll send you anything you'll need from your sponsor money."

I nod, though I highly doubt that anyone has sponsored me. If I'm going to rely on anything, it's my own skills. I have no allies except for my district partner, but she's not going to last for long out there. She wants to go into the bloodbath to get a weapon for defense, which made me choke with laughter that night when she said it. Is any strategy more crazy than that?

I meet my stylist soon and she brings me up to the roof where I obediently grip tightly to the rungs of a ladder dropped down from a hovercraft. It turns out I don't have to grip that tight since I'm frozen by an electric current once I touch it. Something frightfully large is injected into my arm and the pain is nearly unbearable. My stylist tells me it's just my tracker and I nod numbly while biting hard on my lip to keep from screaming out from the pain. If dying is worse than this, then I'm really unprepared for the arena.

We get to the launch room in about an hour and I change into my tribute outfit. My stylist rubs the cloth between her fingers and says thoughtfully, "Expect cold nights. Your jacket has some reflective material. The boots are for trekking through terrains and forests. Seems like it'll be something like a forested area this year." She pauses and just stands there looking at me. I'm about to ask her why the hesitation, then I realise, she doesn't want me to go. As a tribute who has known her for a week only I don't feel that much connection to her, but I still say, "Thanks for everything. I'll miss you."

She smiles sadly and to my surprise, she pulls me into a tight hug and I can smell her scented perfume. A mechanical voice breaks our hug, saying that there are thirty seconds to launch and both of us stand up. My stylist helps me onto my launch tube and I step up. A glass cylinder lowers slowly and our hands break apart. I break my gaze and watch as I'm lifted into darkness, and then a bright burst of sunlight hits my eyes and I try to adjust to the light. That's when the Games officially starts.

"Ladies and gentlemen, let the Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games begin!"

It takes a while before I can clearly see everything. There's the Cornucopia, with all the supplies and items scattered around, and behind that is a dense forest. Yes, that's where I'll go. I turn around and behind me, slightly off to the left, is a large wheat field. To the right is some sort of hedge area, probably part of the woods. I look for the best way to get into the forest and since it all looks the same to me, I choose the path that is far away enough from the Cornucopia to be safe but yet has valuable items to scoop up on the way. My eyes light on a bright orange pack sitting just sixty, seventy metres away. I could get that. When I've decided and placed myself in a position ready to sprint off, I glance around for my district partner. She's a couple of tributes to my right and staring at the Cornucopia, with all its knives, swords, spears and supplies. She doesn't look at me though, her eyes fixated on the booty spewing from the mouth of the horn. And it's just when I'm turning back to face that orange pack when the gong decides to sound and everyone sprints off their plates.

I run off myself, mad that I didn't pay attention, that I wasn't ready, and head straight for the orange pack. I reach it at the same time when another tribute, the girl from District 12, does and I notice she's already got a loaf of bread and a plastic sheet. We both grab the pack and grapple for it; just when I think I'm about to get it, a sharp, excruciating pain pierces my back and runs up my spine. I've been hit by something sharp, is it a knife, or a sword? A spear? Something thick and metallic is choked up in my throat and I cough it out. My eyes are narrow and though my vision is fading, I can see the crimson spots of blood that I coughed into the District 12 girl's face. I can feel myself falling and my head is swirling with the dizziness and the pain. The mayhem around me fades away slowly and everything darkens. _I'm sorry_, I think. _Sorry I let you down. _Then the pain overwhelms me and everything fades out completely.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Chapter 2 posted on request! Thanks for reviewing :) Now since the D9 boy is dead the POVs will mostly switch between his stylist and mentor though I'll add in others occasionally.**  
**Also to clarify, why I made the boy further away from the backpack and that he wasn't ready to run off is because Katniss took some time to get to the backpack, having taken the bread and plastic and being delayed a little so if the boy reached it the same time as her he should have hesitated a bit as well :)**  
**I've decided this isn't an epilogue, it's more of the different POVs revolving around both District 9 tributes.**

**Stylist POV**

When the gong sounds, I fix my gaze on him as he turns back to the Cornucopia, slightly startled, and at one look one can tell he's caught off guard. Others have already reached the Cornucopia and are scrounging through its weapons and supplies while he dashes instead for a orange backpack a distance ahead of him. He reaches it just as the Fire Girl, Katniss, does and they both grab for the backpack. "Please get it, " I whisper, and I watch as he very nearly grabs it straight out of the Fire Girl's hands. I watch as she swipes it back into her reach. I watch as a fast, long knife lodges in his back and he coughs blood onto Fire Girl's face. I watch as he falls down, down, until his face hits the hard ground and he gasps for air. He sharply draws each breath until his chest ceases to move and I know he's gone.

They tell us not to get too attached to our tributes. That was my mistake. I look away from the screen, not wishing to view more. He's gone down over a backpack.

I sit there in a stupor until his mentor comes to find me.

**Mentor POV**

He went down too fast. His back was to the Cornucopia and he was busy fighting the 12 girl over a backpack. How could he have survived? Despite my annoyance with the boy, I can't help but feel sorry for him. He was only a teenager. He had his whole life ahead of him and surely, his family is mourning for him right now. I go over and sit with his stylist, who is obviously still trying to get over the fact that he died. After hesitating and thinking over my words clearly, I say, "Don't think about it too much. Better to get over it soon enough. You'll have another tribute waiting next year."  
She nods sadly and replies softly, "You've had experience." Yes, she's right; there hasn't been a victor for District 9 since over thirty years ago when I won my Games. And as for her, this is only her second year being a stylist. I know the pain of mentoring and seeing them die every year, but dressing them up in your masterpieces and watching their once "beautified" bodies become slick with blood and go limp must be as bad, or worse. She's still new though. The worst has yet to come, she needn't worry yet. They don't really care about the stylists when their tribute dies.

And as for me, I am now the laughingstock of all the mentors. My tribute was the first to die in the 74th Games over a backpack.

**Stylist POV**

After sitting in silence with his mentor for a couple of minutes, I walk to my quarters and to the large wardrobe where the outfits I designed for him are still seeing this, the tears come to my eyes. I fold the outfits neatly, place them in a drawer in my dresser and lock it up. Then I slowly make my way back to his mentor and the viewing screens.

**District 9 Girl POV**

Clutching two knives in my hands, I take off to the forested areas behind the Cornucopia. The Careers have gotten a weapon each, and they're heading out in all directions looking for victims still in range. I know I must run away fast or I'll be caught. Stealing a look at the dead tributes lying on the ground, I sprint for the forest. But something catches my eye. Or rather, _someone_. And instantly I feel dread at the pit of my stomach.

He's lying on his side, a small pool of blood around him and soaking up in his clothes. My district partner. I'm facing his front but as I keep running I can see the handle of a knife wedged in his back. That must be courtesy of the girl from 2. There's a loaf of bread lying about a metre from him, looking like it was dropped to the ground in a hurry. Was that what he was trying to get when he was killed? No, he knows better than to run all the way there for just a loaf of bread.

As I'm puzzling about this, I hear heavy footsteps running towards me from behind. Whoever it is is definitely much faster and swifter. I spin around, taking a risk, and see the boy from 1, spear in hand, ready to kill. I gasp instinctively and try to throw one of my knives like I learnt in training but it lacks aim and power, simply making a small surface cut on the boy's arm and bouncing off, which does absolutely nothing to stop or delay him. Terrified, I run up and try to pierce my remaining knife into his arm but he knocks me off with his other hand and thrusts the spear in my direction. It's only a split second before the searing pain splits my skin and blood gushes out of the deep wound. He pulls the spear out, wet and red with my blood, and runs back to his allies. Desperate, I drop my knife and hold both hands to my side, trying to staunch the blood flow, but I know it won't help. I'm dying, yet I'm still alive. It's agony. I find myself wishing I had died like my district partner. A knife in the back and dying instantly would be much better. I can't stand it any more, so I let my legs go limp and fall to the ground, still writhing around in pain.

I hear someone approach me. The heavy thumping on the ground sends me into a panic at first when I thought it was the boy from District 1 come back to torture me more, but when I force my head up I'm staring into the blue eyes of another boy, I think from 12. The boy on fire, or Lover Boy, as I heard the Careers call him. Even in the arena his kind eyes did not change and I can tell he has a good intention and will do me a favour. The only favour I can ask for.

"Please...do it," I manage to get out. He doesn't drive his sword into me right away, as I expected him to do, but instead kneels by my side and gently squeezes my hand. I breathe heavily and reach up a shaking and bloodied hand to tap his sword to indicate what I want, unable to talk. He takes a deep breath and says, "Three...two...one." Then the sharp pain of his sword hits me for a second before it goes dark.

**Mentor POV**

I just gape at the screen when the District 12 boy's sword drives straight into the girl. They were saying something but it was all in a whisper and I couldn't hear it. The only thing I know is that she tapped his sword, requesting for him to kill her quick.

That's it. District 9 is officially out of this game. Both of them gone in the first day. It's not uncommon for both tributes from the poorer districts not living to see the second day, and it's happened to my tributes a number of times, but this time both were killed in the bloodbath. The other years, at least one or both had the sense to run for refuge right away without taking anything.

I sigh dramatically and watch the other tributes flee into their own hideouts. A short while later they blast the cannons and I count 11. Two for my tributes. I try and make out the bodies lying around the Cornucopia. From the camera they seem almost like the initial items scattered around the Cornucopia at the very start of the Games, making me shudder as I remember how perfect it looked before all the blood and gore came in. I think Districts 6 and 7 are out as well, plus us. The Games is definitely not going well for District 9.


End file.
